


The Sound Of Her Voice

by Claire



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Exhibitionism, F/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 12:23:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5828443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claire/pseuds/Claire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started even before he met her, when she was nothing more than an image created by the words from his mother's lips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sound Of Her Voice

**Author's Note:**

> Based on an tfa_kink meme prompt: <https://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/1841.html?thread=2338353#cmt2338353>

It started even before he met her, when she was nothing more than an image created by the words from his mother's lips. He'd curl up in his bed and wrap his fingers around himself, stroke himself to the thought of her seeing him like this. He may have never met her, but he'd seen holovids. He had the image of her that was padded out by his mother's memories. Padded out with talk of how she stood straight in the threat of the Empire's shadow, of how she gathered the scattered survivors of a planet that no longer existed. To his mother, she was the General. To his father, she was a princess. But to Poe, she'd always ever just been Leia.

He'd heard the story of her escape from the Deathstar. It was one of a thousand tales told around campfires and in taverns. The first time the children of Vader met. The first time a princess met the scoundrel who would become her husband. Poe used to watch as the younger children acted it out, running over the grass and screaming about who got to play the wookiee. He'd watch and he'd laugh and he'd catch someone as they tripped over a rock. And then, when it was dark, he'd go back home and play it out in his own head.

He'd be the daring pilot who helped Luke Skywalker rescue the princess. He'd fly rings around the TIE fighters who would follow them, and when they were finally safe, stars streaking past as they hurtled through space to the resistance base, Poe would retire to his bunk.

He'd be lying there, his trousers open and his hands around his cock when she came in. She'd be speaking, but her words would trail to a halt when she saw him, a flush coming to her face as tells him to stop.

"That's hardly appropriate," she'd say, trying to look at his eyes, but unable to stop from sneaking glances at his cock.

"Seems to me, Princess, to be very appropriate," Poe would answer, still stroking himself.

"Stop that." But her voice wouldn't sound very convincing.

And Poe would just smile, would stand up from his bunk and walk over to her. "I don't think you want me to stop. Do you, Leia?"

There'd be a flush to Leia's cheeks as she shook her head, as she tilted her face up into Poe's kiss and let him lead her to the bed. And that would be when it ended, because Poe would have shaken his way through his orgasm, his fingers covered in white, and setting his chrono for early enough to get his sheets into the fresher before his father was awake.

Leia is his companion through it all. Through his training when he first joins the New Republic fleet, to being given his own X-wing, and finally his own squadron. He spends nights with people, and they're easy nights with mornings that don't expect anything further. But Leia is his constant.

He lies in bed in the barracks, surrounded by a dozen other people, the sound of breathing and snoring and others trying to be as quiet as him all reaching his ears. And he wraps his fingers around his cock and thinks about there being an inspection, about a special visitor being on the base. He thinks about the way his commander would hurry to pull General Organa out of the room once he realised what Poe was doing. About the way she'd shrug off his hand and tell him to wait for her outside. She'd walk over to him, commenting that this was hardly the first impression she'd expected of the hotshot pilot she'd heard so much about. And when Poe didn't take his hand off his cock, hers would join it, before they'd tumble onto the bed.

It gets worse when he meets her, after he's accepted her offer of a place in the Resistance and taken Karé and Iolo with him. It gets worse because she's more than just an image filled in by Poe's belief of who she should be, of who he wants her to be. Instead, she's the one who passes him a corridor, nodding at him and asking how he is. She's the one who takes him to one side and tells him how proud his mother would be of him. She's the one who presses a datachip into his hand and tells him he's her best pilot.

His quarters on the base are small, but they're his and his alone. There's no one around him to hear the rustle of sheets as he strokes himself at night, no one around hear the panted out breaths or the moans he had to try so hard to suppress back when it was him and a dozen other pilots. And there's no one around him to hear the ground out _Leia_ that comes from him when he spills into his hand.

He thinks about the dark alcoves around the base, the abandoned corners that hold nothing but dust and the long forgotten parts of ships that'll never fly again. Thinks about how easy it would be to slip into one of them, how easy it would be to slide a hand into his trousers and stroke himself to the sound of her voice. Would she even know he was there, would she sense it some way? He thinks that she would. Because she's the General and she always seems to know.

Her eyes would widen as she realised what he was doing, demanding that he stop, that he leave, that this is not appropriate. And every word, every order to stop would drive him closer, until he's leaning back against the wall, his face in shadows as he bites at his lower lip and comes, tacky warmth washing over his fingers.

He'd meet her eyes, wide and shocked, as he pulled his hand out of his trousers, bringing his fingers up to his mouth to lick his own come off them. She'd wait until he was finished before leaning forward, before telling him to report to her quarters that night.

In his head, she tells him that he's going to put that tongue to better use. In reality, he comes across his own fingers and spends the night alone.

He tries not to think about Leia every night, but some days, it's too hard not to. On the days where he sees her eating by herself, surrounded by tables of pilots and techs, alone in a sea of people, he thinks about joining her. Thinks about what she would do if his hand slipped under the table, if he started to rub himself. It would be an act just for her, while everyone else moved around them. She'd reach out, her hand on top of his, stopping him. His name would be quiet on her lips as she told him not now, not here.

No one would pay them any attention when they leave together, a suitable distance between them as they walk to her quarters. They'd be bigger than his are, but he'd expect that. After all, she's the General, the one who leads them. There'd be files and notes scattered across the table along one wall, and he'd ignore the holo next to them. The one showing an earlier time, with a different pilot and the child between them. She wouldn't speak as she pushed him onto the bed, tugging down his trousers just enough to free his cock.

Poe tightens his hand around himself as he thinks about her sinking down onto him. He can imagine the flush her cheeks would have as she rode him, the way her hair would flow around her shoulders. His name would be gasped out in panted little breaths as she got closer, and they'd fall together, perfectly aligned. He can almost hear her voice in his ear as he comes, his name breathed across his skin as he empties himself into the air, thoughts of her clenching around him.

It's the day she calls him into the small room she's claimed as an office that Poe can't wait to get back to his quarters. His skin is still warm from where she'd reached out, where she'd laid her hand over his, and asked him to fly a mission for her, one she asked him to keep quiet from everyone else, even his own squadron.

It would be dangerous, she'd said, and still, he'd agreed. You would be alone, she'd said, and still, he'd agreed. Thank you, she'd said, and he'd felt himself harden behind the fabric of his trousers.

The door to his quarters is barely closed behind him before his hand is down his trousers, his fingers wrapping around his hard cock and freeing it. He was only grateful that he didn't meet anyone in the corridors on his way back, didn't see anyone beyond the techs in various rooms and the droids that rolled past him.

His eyes close as he drops down onto the bed, thinking of what would have happened if only he'd leaned forward, if only--

He doesn't stop straight away when he hears his name, because he's used to it. Used to hearing Leia saying his name, hearing it murmured, gasped, moaned. And then he realises that it's not in his imagination, that it's--

He opens his eyes to see her looking at him, surprise and embarrassment written on her face. He doesn't know why she's there, doesn't know why she followed him, but there's a datapad in her hand, hanging by her side.

"I'm sorry, I just--"

Poe's never heard her sound flustered before, never heard her sound anything but composed. He finds his voice as she turns to leave.

"Leia."

And part of him doesn't expect it to work, doesn't expect her to stop, to turn back to face him.

"Don't leave," he says, pushing himself off the bed. He doesn't bother tucking himself away as he holds out a hand to her.

She pauses, and he can almost see the decision warring in her mind.

"Leia. Let me."

Let me be what you need, let me be what you want, he doesn't say. It's a request, a question, an offer.

She accepts it when she takes his hand.


End file.
